


Crossing Bridges Burnt

by the5throommate



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory, F/F, Junkers joined Overwatch, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, Trauma, implied trauma, mission to the outback, plot heavy, survivor's guilt, will fix summary later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 06:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the5throommate/pseuds/the5throommate
Summary: A unknown stranger with connections to Roadhog's past comes tearing back into his life during an Overwatch mission to the Outback, bringing with them a serious accusation and a dangerous plot for revenge against the former junker.





	1. Prologue

She had been alone now for five years. 60 months. 261 weeks. 1825 days. 4300 hours. Alone. 

 

Sure, she still saw other people, spoke with them, interacted. She was even friendly with a few other regulars at the local bar. But, at the end of the day, the home she returned to was empty. And really she thought that calling it a home would be far too kind. It was four walls with a roof and a floor with a mattress on it. There were some personal belongings, sure. Some books, knick-knacks, old photographs. But when everything you own can be stuffed into a backpack to be quickly hauled away in an emergency, nowhere ever feels like a home no matter how long you stay. 

 

On this day in particular, she happened to be trapped in this place. Outside the four walls a dust storm raged. She lay on her mattress, unable to do anything else. If E-Train was right (which he more often than not was) she would be here for another day and a half at most. Maybe she should have taken up his offer to wait out the storm with him and his girlfriend. They were decent enough people, after all. Probably wouldn't kill her. Or they would make it quick, at the least.  

 

She found herself almost laughing at the thought. Surviving all these years on her own only to be taken down by a paraplegic meteorologist-for-fun and his 4 foot 9 girlfriend. What a fucking way to go, she thought. 

 

Taking a moment to look out of her window, all she saw was red. A dusty, rust-colored red that filled the air and blocked the sun. She felt like the main character from a film her mom had let her watch; a man left behind on an uninhabitable planet to survive on his own, in the end being rescued by his crewmates who fought tooth and nail to return to the planet. She liked that story. Her mom would say that it showed how far people could go for love, how powerful that force that connects us is.

 

“Would you fly to a whole nother planet for me?” she had asked as the credits rolled. 

 

“Of course, love. I would build the spaceship with my own two hands to fly back to you!” 

 

“But you don't know how to build a spaceship! You work with old people.” 

 

“I'm sure your uncles would help me.” 

 

She remembers glancing over to the other side of the sofa at the two men. One was asleep, slumped over the armrest and snoring. The other met her gaze and and smiled and nodded, giving her a thumbs up. She giggled. 

 

“I would build a spaceship for you too,so don't worry,” she said. “It'd be pink and yellow with lots of flowers. And I'll put stars on it too since it'll be in space and-” 

 

“Alright, girlie,” her mum interrupted. “We can work on our spaceships tomorrow. I already let you stay up way past your bedtime, your plushies must be worried about you! Say goodnight to your uncles and your gran, yeah?” 

 

She had waved a final goodbye to the rest of her family as her mum carried her upstairs to her room. Tucked in underneath her soft duvet and surrounded by only her favorite pachimaris, she spoke up once more. 

 

“Mum?”

 

“Yes, girlie?” 

 

“Would you really do anything to get me back?” 

 

Her mother had given her a sweet smile and said “Of course, sweetie! I would do anything for you, understand? Me, your gran, and your uncles, none of us would ever leave you behind.” Her mum smoothed her hair and gave her a kiss on the head. 

 

“Did that movie scare you a bit?” 

 

“No! I'm old enough to watch grown-up movies!” 

 

Her mum had raised an eyebrow and smirked. 

 

“Really?” 

 

“...no. I got scared. Don't tell anyone, promise!” 

 

“I promise.” 

 

Her mum had stood in the doorway and looked back at her as she flicked off the light. “Even if we ever got separated, we will always come back for you. Nothing to be afraid of, girlie.” 

 

She nodded in response and snuggled her favorite plushie close. 

 

“Love you, sweetie.”

 

“Love you too, mum.” 

 

She watched the door close behind her mother and listened closely as her footsteps faded down the hall. 

 

She hated that memory. It played through her head on repeat on days like this when there was nothing better to do than sit with your own thoughts. If there was a God, this was His worst punishment. 

  
  


Retreating from the window to the mattress, she gave her screaming legs a break. Sitting on the edge of the bed she began to undo the straps under her knees, revealing the red and calloused skin underneath. She let her prosthetics clatter to the floor, not caring if they got scuffed. She stretched, joints cracking and popping with each movement and a loud, tired groan escaping her mouth. She threw herself back onto musty pillows and stared up at the dusty ceiling. 

 

“We will always come back for you.” 

 

_ Shut up.  _

 

“None of us would ever leave you behind.” 

 

_ Shut up! _

 

“Love you.”

 

_ Shut UP! _

 

She didn't want to be mad. She wished more than anything that she wasn't, because at the core of it, none of it had been their faults. 

 

Gran died during the outbreak when she lied about having enough medicine for the both of them. They had been stuck living at that shitty camp after her mum never came back from searching for her uncles. Her uncles never came back because of him. 

 

All of her misery, her loneliness, could be traced back to one single man. She thought it was convenient, really. It was nice to have a focus for the rage. 

 

She remembered how her mum searched far and wide for her uncles after they never came back from the ALF mission to the Omnium. She remembered how every day she came back wearier and wearier until that day she never came back at all. She remembered the name that she heard whispered between her mother and grandmother in the dead of night when she should have been sleeping. 

 

Roadhog.

 

A Junkertown enforcer, a ruthless killer. The masked man had become known well in the months after the fallout as one tough bastard that you do not cross.  

 

Her mum would spit the name like poison, anger flashing in her tired eyes. “M.C. ran into him at a bar the other night in Junkertown. Said he was talking about them. Bragging about it. He's a bloody murderer and when I get my hands on him I'll-” 

 

Roadhog. 

 

“A nasty name for a nasty man,” her gran had said. It had been months since they last saw mum, nearly a year since the fallout. “Perhaps one day I'll have to go out and find him myself.” 

 

“If you go we go together,” she had replied. It was evening then and they were driving the pickup back to the campsite they had been calling home. Dust billowed in the air behind them and their shadow kept pace with them on the dry, sandy ground. 

 

After a moment of silence she has asked, quietly, afraid of how her gran might react, “You think mum ever found him?” 

 

To her surprise her grandmother had began to laugh. It caught her so off guard she had to jerk the steering wheel to pull them back onto the road. The older woman had wiped a tear from her eye and continued to smile. 

 

“My dear, if your mother had found him she would have brought his head back on a stick!” she laughed. “What a fat old bastard.” 

 

She remembers laughing at that. Her gran had been the master of going from sweet old woman to gnarly sailor in the matter of seconds. It had been the first time she smiled in weeks. 

 

“I tell you what though, if I ever did find him-”

 

“You'll kill him?” she had finished for her gran. 

 

“No! No no no. I think I'm too old for that now. No. I would rip that dumb mask of his off his damn face, look him right in the eye and demand that he tell me why he took my children from me.” 

 

She hadn't responded, keeping her eyes locked on the road ahead. She gripped the steering wheel in a way that made her knuckles go white. Her heart pounded in her chest and breath quickened. Anger. Rage. 

 

“Yeah, that's it,” her gran muttered to herself. “Why. I just want to know why.” 

 

Her mother and grandmother’s words continued to buzz in her skull, rattling her bones and insides, refusing to let her rest. This isolation would drive her mad. 

 

_ You've only been in here a full day _ , her conscience reminded her.  _ Fucking idiot.  _

 

As she began to slip into sleep, unaware and uncaring of whether it was night or day in the storm, she remembered another film shown to her by her mother. This one had been different, not spaceships and astronauts but pirates and princesses, sword fights and giants. 

 

She daydreamed of being in the spot of her favorite character of the film, a dashing bandit with deadly swordsmanship. She would hunt down the Hog, corner him against a rocky outcrop, bruised and bloody, brought to his knees in the final battle. In some scenarios she used her crossbow, in others an executioner's axe. In others she even used the bandit’s sword. Either way she would aim for his throat. She would make him beg for forgiveness and plead for his life. For her grandmother she would rip off that stupid mask, look him dead in the eye, and ask why. After that, for herself, she would raise her weapon. She would take aim. And right before she watched the life drain out of his eyes she would tell him:

 

_“They call me Cricket. You killed my family. Prepare to die.”_


	2. Worst Laid Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, comments and feedback greatly appreciated!!! for more updates on my writing you can follow me over on twitter at @the5throommate

In the years since the fall of the Omnium, Roadhog had heard a lot of stupid plans. In fact, since joining forces with Junkrat, the number of stupid plans he heard had grown at an exponential rate. But this. This had to be one of the stupidest plans he had heard in ages. 

 

"This is one of the stupidest plans I've heard in ages," he said. 

 

"Ah, well," Winston gave a shrug and rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. "We've already decided that this is the best course of action to solve this problem. And we already have the wheels turning, we can't cancel this now." 

 

"And you've decided to tell me this now? According to your master plan your little crew is supposed to be departing in two days."

 

"Yes, uh. Well. We thought it would be best, after everything we couldn't imagine that you would want to go back."

 

"But you're gonna force me anyway." 

 

"Actually, er," Winston began. Roadhog swore if the damn gorilla stuttered one more time that desk of his was going through the window. "We're sending the both of you," said Winston. He had said quickly and in almost a whisper, as if he was afraid of the words themselves.

 

 

Roadhog felt a surge of anger course through his body and soon found himself standing, towering over the gorilla and his work desk, huge fists clenched at his sides.

 

"That was...part of the deal we made, after all," Winston said. "If you no longer wish to comply I would be happy to arrange transport for you and Mr. Fawkes to the destination of your choice. You would no longer have contact with us or access to our resources."

 

Roadhog wanted to scream. He wanted to yell. He wanted to grab that dumb monkey by his dumb throat and just keep squeezing til he finally shut the hell up. 

 

But he didn't. 

 

Instead he unclenched his fists and let out a weary sigh. He hated to admit that the gorilla was right, that after all these years of being self-reliant and being able to carve his own path he found himself completely reliant and at the mercy of a group of rouge agents from an illegal, ex-government organization. His only saving grace at that moment was his mask which hid his tired, dejected eyes from the recalled Overwatch commander. 

 

"Unless you have any questions, anything to say," said Winston "You're free to go back to your quarters. I'll be sending you more information on the mission in the morning."

 

He could only grunt in response. A knot of dread in his stomach had begun to grow, getting larger with each passing second. He felt sick. He felt pissed. He wanted to get out of this damn workshop and back to his own quarters as soon as possible. Roadhog had just set foot into the hall when he heard Winston begin to speak again. 

 

"I understand why you don't want him going. I wish we could do the mission without you, I really do. But we can't. And a deal is a deal." 

 

Roadhog paused, but only for a second, and deciding to act like he didn't hear. As he made his way down the dark hall he found himself wishing the doors in this place were the kind you could slam.

 

***

It felt like wandering through an empty prison. Save for the dim guidelights near the floor and the moonlight filtering in through the occasional window it was completely dark. However, the closer he got to the living quarters, the more signs of life he could find; empty coffee mugs left in the dining area, pictures and notes hung on walls and doors. (“Do Not Disturb Before Noon”, “I’m making cookies! Put a check next to the kind you want below! ~Mei”, and “wipe the FUCKING toilet seat when ur done!!!”) At some point someone had brought in a small table and a vase with flowers to place in the hall, probably in an attempt to make the place more homey. He didn’t really think it was working. 

Some of the doors he passed had slivers of light passing through the bottom, others were dark, with snores that could be heard if one stood quietly. Two rooms down from where he was a door creaked open. Brigitte stepped out, clad in a bathrobe and slippers, shower caddy in hand. She smiled and gave him a cheery wave as she left in the direction of the showers. 

It was strange. Being smiled at. 

Though he himself wasn’t in his quarters, the light was on and the sounds of shuffling movements and muttering found their way into the hall from his room. He opened the door to a decently-sized bedroom complete with a desk, dresser, and full-sized bed. On his bed surrounded by miscellaneous bits of metal scraps and tools sat a long, lanky man with suntanned skin and wild blonde hair. He was hunched over his work, screwdriver in his flesh hand, a component of one of his many homemade weapons in the other. He only looked up when Roadhog closed the door behind him, his face lighting up with a wide grin full of crooked teeth. Mako couldn’t help but grin back under his mask. 

“That monkey didn’t give ya too much shit, did he?”

“No,” replied Mako, loosening the straps of his mask. “But he will give me shit if he finds out you’ve been sneakin’ tools out of the workshop again.” 

Junkrat snorted and rolled off the bed to meet Mako. He wrapped skinny arms around broad shoulders to pull his partner down into a kiss. “You look tired,” he said. “You look like he did give you shit.” 

Mako grunted, letting his head rest in the crook of Jamison’s neck. “A bunch of bureaucratic bullshit,” he said. 

“When the fuck is it not?”

Mako gave a small laugh despite the knot in his stomach. They remained there for another moment in silent embrace. “Let’s just get ready for bed,” he said.  
Jamison made a sound of agreement, planting another small kiss on his partner’s lips before pulling away completely. He took to undressing right away, letting shirt and pants fall where he stood until he was wearing nothing but his boxers and prosthetics. 

“Laundry hamper,” said Mako, in the process of removing his own clothes. 

“‘Laundry hamper,’” Rat mocked. “Look at you, Mr. Fancy.”

“Laundry hampers aren’t fancy,” he said. “They’re buckets of dirty clothes.” 

“If they’re dirty then we can just toss ‘em on the floor! I don’t see the point in this extra step!” 

“It’s to keep the room clean,” said Mako as Jamison rolled his eyes. “And speaking of clean,” he nodded towards Rat’s mess on his bed. “I don’t want to wake up with scrap metal in my ass.”

“God, ya sound like me mums!” Junkrat said, sweeping his work haphazardly into a pile on the ground. Mako didn't bother to say anything, he was sure this was a clean as he was gonna get without a real fight, and that was the last thing he had energy for tonight. 

Now sporting only his boxers as well, Mako sat on the edge of the bed and watched his partner kick the spare parts into an open corner. He found himself grinning again. He was in love. In love with a goofy, manic, beautiful, genius madman. And somehow he loved him back. 

“You can go on an’ lay back, I'll get the light,” Jamison said, his trash pile now apparently in its most efficient shape. Mako grunted in thanks and did as he told, laying back on the mattress and situating himself the best he could to leave a bit of room for Rat. Once the room was bathed in darkness Mako felt the mattress dip as Jamison sat to remove his mechanical arm and peg leg, then shimmy the rest of his way onto the bed, wrapping his long body around Mako’s and coming to rest his head on his chest. Mako brought his hand up to stroke his partner’s hair, smoothing it down the best he could. He ran his fingers over the top of his head, feeling small tufts of shorter hair that had begun growing back in. When Ziegler said the treatments would begin to reverse the effects of the radiation poisoning he had really doubted her. This time around it was nice to be proven wrong. 

“So what’d the monkey call ya all the way up to his office for, anyways?” asked Rat. Mako groaned. Little bastard never knew when to shut up. 

“New mission assignment,” he replied, hoping that Junkrat would take the hint and stop talking but knowing damn well he wouldn’t. 

“Oh! Nice! Been going fuckin’ stir-crazy in here. Where they shippin’ us off to?”

“I’ll tell ya in the morning, gettin’ the official report on it then anyways.”

“Aw, come on! We goin’ somewhere you hate? Miami? Is it Miami?” 

Mako said nothing, just closed his eyes and continued petting Jamison’s hair. He’d talk himself to sleep eventually. 

“Liverpool. Anchorage. São Paulo? Tell me when I’m gettin’ warm.” 

“Just sleep now, Jamie,” Mako muttered. “Gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

“Ugh, fine! No fuckin’ fun anymore, geez.”

Jamison snuggled closer and gave him a short kiss on the neck. “Night, mate. Love ya.”

“Love ya too,” said Mako. 

He stared blankly at the ceiling as he felt Jamie’s body relax and listened to his breathing turn slow and steady. He once more felt a panic rise in his gut, a twisting, sick feeling that came with the knowledge of what lie ahead. 

They were going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you enjoy my work, please consider donating over at my ko-fi (http://ko-fi.com/randdeb)! im a student, so everything helps. thanks again for reading!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_htbxlDjMK8


	3. The Crashing Wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it takes a moment for reality to hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather short chapter, I apologize. Life's been rough these past few weeks, so hopefully I can get back to a regular posting schedule after this ;_; Please enjoy!

The next morning the two junkers found themselves at the doors of one of the several conference rooms at the Watchpoint. Without surprise it seemed as though the rest of their team had beat them there, some already dressed for the field. 

Junkrat jiggled the doorknob, yanking at the door which didn’t budge. He swore and began to slap at the window to get the attention of those inside. Roadhog reached around him and pulled the door open, holding it open so he could enter. Junkrat glared at him and he huffed out a laugh. 

“Shut up!”

“Didn’t say nothin’.” 

Their team seemed decent enough, Roadhog guessed. There was the time warp girl, probably their pilot. Next to her sat Brigitte, Lúcio, Fareeha, and the cowboy whose name Jamision couldn’t remember to save his own life. 

“Oi, McGee!” Junkrat said as he took his seat next to him. “Nice ta see ya!”

“It’s amazing how you engineer all your own shit but can’t remember a simple name, ain’t it?” asked the cowboy sarcastically. 

Roadhog took his seat in the remaining chair next to Junkrat and gave a small nod to Winston signaling him to start. 

“Okay!” said Winston. “I’ll try to keep this as concise as possible for you all, Lena says I tend to ramble and in the past I have gone past the scheduled end to meetings but hopefully I can get this done quickly. I actually timed myself last night an-”

“Winston!” Lena whispered. “Time!” 

“Oh! Yes, okay, let’s get to it then. Athena, hologram one, please?”

The conference table became bathed in a blue light from above as a wireframe map built itself upwards from the surface. One area of the map was an irregular shape filled with red. Surrounding it was a ring of orange, followed by a ring of yellow and then one of green. Mako’s stomach twisted, knowing exactly what it was. 

“For this mission it is required at we travel to what can be called the “ground zero” of the Outback fallout, the Omnium. According to our sources a gang has apparently taken residence there, despite the still relatively high radiation levels, to harvest any remaining nuclear or advanced materials to build a variety of weapons, which they sell through contacts to larger and more dangerous organizations such as Deadlock or Los Muertos. And, however unlikely you may think it, a nuclear weapon could be built and used. Long story short, you will be going in to dispel the organization and collect any remaining dangerous materials so that they can be disposed of safely.” 

“Wait, they had all this important stuff in the Omnium and the government didn't even bother to clean it up?” asked Lúcio.

“They fenced up the affected areas and left us,” replied Roadhog. “They didn't bother with any sort of recovery efforts, to the suits we were a lost cause.” 

“Man, stories like that are way too common,” Lúcio said. “That's why I volunteered, to help these people. We're still giving supplies as well?”

“Yes,” said Winston. “As part of our agreement with our contact in return for their help we will provide them with a supply of food and resources for them and their community.” 

“Just who the fuck is this 'contact’ you lot got, anyways? They're gonna stab you in the back the moment you turn around, mark my words,” said Junkrat.

“Profanity, Mr. Fawkes,” sighed Winston. “And to answer your question, our contact is an Outback resident and mapmaker that goes by 'Beamer’. That name ring any bells?” 

“You know how fucking big the Outback is, mate?” Junkrat replied. Winston looked so momentarily dumbfounded at this that Mako had to stifle back a laugh. 

“Back to our contact…” Winston continued. The remainder of the briefing went on without incident. Winston covered multiple drop sites, rendezvous locations, and emergency actions they would need to execute if needed. Sometimes Roadhog found himself wanting to interject but forced himself to stay quiet. The last thing he wanted to do was start another argument. He decided to cross those bridges when and if the came to them. 

Just as he thought he wouldn't be able to take anymore of Winston's droning on, their 'commander’ as he had been called, dismissed the group to spend their last few hours before their departure as they pleased. 

While most of the group made a beeline to the mess hall, Roadhog hung behind. He felt like he was trapped in a daze. The world around him seemed fuzzy and unreal. They were going back. Not just to the Outback or Junkertown, but to the Omnium itself. He hadn't been back since the fallout, unable to face the consequences of what he and the ALF had done, unable to face the source of the destruction of not only his life but so many others. He could still sometimes feel the ringing in his ears from the alarms, smell the sickening smoke that burned him up from the inside. He could still see the blood, taste his own in the back of his throat, raw from screaming at the others run run run fucking RUN RU- 

“-nd I was thinkin’ we should go the the mess hall anyways, right? Like, I'm not hungry but for the next few days we'll just be eatin’ those shitty mission rations. McGee said somethin’ bout barbecue so at the least I need to go down there and show em how it's done-” 

In his daze Jamison had taken him by the arm and begun to lead him towards the mess hall. He hadn't even realized he had started to move, completely trapped in his own mind. He would always be eternally grateful for all the times Jamison had saved him from that, whether he knew he did or not. But he stopped, gently pulling away from Jamie’s grasp. 

“What?” Jamie asked, confused. “I'm sure they have some vegetarian stuff there, I know that ice scientist lady don't eat meat either so-” 

“I'm just gonna go back to the room,” Mako said. 

“Ya not feelin’ well?”

“Yeah, something like that.” 

“I know what you’re thinkin’. It wasn’t your fault. And this lot, this lot’s not gonna give a shit! They dunno nothin bout what happened. They not gonna judge ya, they all got some dark shit too-”

“‘S not that. It’s the reminder, havin’ to go back. Knowin’ what happened, how I coulda stopped it.”

Jamison huffed. “I hate how ya think that way, mate, ya know that.” He rubbed at the back of his neck in frustration. To comfort your partner who blamed himself for triggering an apocalypse was never an easy feat. Next to impossible, really. 

“You go eat without me. Not too much, you’ll make yourself sick again,” said Mako. “They don’t like vomit in the drop ships.” 

“Heh, yeah,” laughed Jamison. “You remember the look on Ana’s face? Fuckin’ classic!” 

Mako grinned to himself under his mask as Junkrat fell down the hole of telling him a story that he was present for in the first place. As Jamison planted a kiss on the snout of his mask in goodbye and waltzed his way to the mess hall, he decided that love felt better than the smoothest sheets on the softest skin and worse than rough salt scrubbed into a fresh open wound. 

The ruins of the Omnium stood as a crumbling monument to the last hole that was cut through him. 

In his quarters things were unusually clean, a sign of an upcoming mission. Bags and supplies had already been packed and made ready in the dropship, leaving the room almost bare. Mako removed his mask and tossed it uncaring into a corner. He really didn’t need it, according to Zeigler. At this point it was mostly personal comfort, a rough leather security blanket wrapped around his head to hide him away from the rest of the world. 

He shut off the lights and closed the blinds. Like an angsty teenager Mako threw himself onto the bed and curled himself up the best he could into the corner. He let the panic come. Better here than in the field, after all. 

The people he left behind danced behind his closed eyes. Friends. Family. All of them gone now, dead and buried. Sirens, gunshots, shouts and explosions. Flames. 

His chest grew tight with short, panicked breaths. He could hear the sounds, feel the hot, windblown sand prick at his skin. Feel the tears that began to sting his eyes. 

“Bad feelings are like waves,” his mother once said. “Sometimes the big ones are too strong, and fighting against them will just knock you down. So you need to sit tight, let them wash over you. The tide goes out eventually.” 

He brought his knuckles to his mouth and bit down hard to stifle a sob. God help her, if she seen all that he had done, what had become of her only son. In the back of his mind she was still there, sitting in her chair on the porch of their family home, wrinkled brown skin full of laugh lines and crow’s feet, with the kindest eyes he could remember. He swore he could feel those eyes on him as sleep overtook him at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that wasn't as oddly paced as I feel it was! I really appreciate comments and feedback! Be sure to follow me over on twitter at @the5throommate for more updates. See you next week! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXg3eiPkAiY&list=PLDuMhDupeDJpDUQWOayGyiq4qliRKtxDb&index=6


	4. Looks Like We're In For Nasty Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever get the feeling of Déjà vu?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this took longer than expected 
> 
> and is also a bit longer than expected

Mako found the white noise of the dropship relaxing in a way. 

It was t-minus twenty minutes to their landing and what shocked him most was how calm he was. It was almost as if he had risen up from his panic and anxiety and ascended to a nirvana-like state of complete apathy. He saw it as a sort of blessing, for lack of a better term. 

But however blissful it might be, it was insufficient payment for the hell their ship would soon land in. 

“Alright, loves!” Lena’s voice sang out over the speakers. “Take your seats and strap in, I’m taking her down!”

Mako barely reacted when Junkrat threw his scrawny figure down into the seat beside his own and began to fiddle with the seatbelt straps. 

“Whatcha doin’? Meditating?” he asked. Mako grunted in response. He wasn’t in the mood to expend any unneeded energy. 

As they descended Fareeha gave the team a final review of the mission. On a holographic map much like the one used at the watchpoint, she displayed their landing spot and the path they would take to the Omnium, guided by their contact Beamer, to complete their mission. Two to three days. In and out. Promises, promises. 

As she spoke Mako let his mind slip into a static. Mako locked himself away in the recesses of his mind and let his instincts take over. Eat. Breathe. Fight. Kill. Survive. This was what Roadhog was best at. 

Seated on the opposite side of Junkrat, Lucio had momentarily pulled his attention away from the briefing and focused on Roadhog. Had the big guy actually fallen asleep? He gave Junkrat a slight nudge with his elbow. “Psst. Jamison.”

“Yeah?” 

“Did your partner just fall asleep?” he whispered.

“Wha?” Jamison took a quick glance at the giant, silent figure next to him and then turned back to Lucio. “Nah, mate. He’s just gettin’ in the zone! It’s somethin’ he does, doin’ more serious jobs.” 

Lucio nodded but to his surprise Junkrat continued in a more hushed tone. “It’s the Omnium, ya know? He was part of the group that brought it down. Blames himself for what happened, all the people that died cause of it.” 

“O-oh,” was all Lucio could respond with. He didn’t really know what he had expected but it hadn’t been that. 

The pause that grew between the two was thick and awkward. Lucio fiddled with the hem of his shirt to keep from staring at Jamison’s now somewhat mournful expression. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it before he did, deciding that now wasn’t the time for deep conversation and felt a guilt stirring for bringing it up. He waited for Jamison’s eyes to switch back to Fareeha’s presentation before letting it drop for good. 

***

The plot of land that the dropship descended upon was located about a dozen kilometers away from the outskirts of a small settlement grown out of a ghost town in the middle of the desert. On the opposite side of the dropship door heat rippled up from the dry earth and dust danced lazily in the wind. 

The team gathered supplies and made last-minute preparations before stepping out into an atmosphere so hot and stifling that they felt as though their breath was getting sucked from their lungs. 

“Is it bad I’m sweating already?” asked Brigette. 

“Long as we stay hydrated, we should be good,” replied Lucio. 

Junkrat scoffed. “You lot wouldn’t last here a week! Can’t rely on water here, can’t rely on anything. What you have now could be gone within the next hour if you’re not careful. But luckily,” Junkrat stood straight to his full height, squaring his shoulders and placing his hand on his hip and motioning between himself and Roadhog with the other. “You got us!”

“Oh, yeah,” said McCree. “We been blessed, alright.” 

Junkrat, who either didn't catch the sarcasm or just didn't care, turned his back to the team to survey their surroundings. “Ya sure did land us in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, didn't ya? We ain't anywhere near the Omnium.” 

“That is on purpose,” said Fareeha impatiently. “Had you been paying attention to my review of the plan on the flight over you would know.” 

“I was too paying attention!” 

Fareeha raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then tell us, Mr. Fawkes, why we are out in the middle of 'butt-fuck nowhere’ as you called it.” 

“I'm tellin’ Ana you said butt-fuck,” said McCree. Fareeha glared at him before turning back to Jamison. 

“Well?” she said. 

“Sure! Sure. Uh, well, we're out here cause, uuh…” Jamison rubbed at his chin pretending to think. “Cause…cause…..wind?” 

“I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that,” said Fareeha. “We landed in an isolated area for safety and security. Lena and Brigette will remain in the dropship as mission control and a fast escape if we need it. Our contact is meeting us near a weather station on the outskirts of this settlement and we'll be getting there via dune buggies with Fawkes and Rutledge in his cycle. From there we finalize our route with our guide and carry out the mission, are we clear?” 

“Fuckin’ crystal,” said Junkrat, giving a lazy salute. Roadhog began to lead him away to load the chopper before Fareeha got her hands around his scrawny neck. The younger Amari was like her mother in many ways: smart, strong, caring, and patient. But as with countless others, Jamison had a superpower of pushing even the most peaceful people to their limits, whether on purpose or not. 

The former Junkers stayed mostly to themselves as they readied their vehicles for travel. Junkrat was cramming as many spare mines, traps, and grenades as he could into the sidecar while trying to leave himself some leg room while Roadhog inspected the bike to make sure it was road-ready. He didn't notice when Brigitte broke away from the main group and wandered over to where he was working. 

“It's amazing, that,” she said. “That you've been able to keep the bike in such amazing condition. You know this is the first working vehicle I've seen with actual tires?” 

Roadhog grunted in response, not giving her much attention. 

“Did you find it? Build it yourself?” she walked around the bike, gazing at it in admiration. “Stunning work.” 

“Bought it from a neighbor back in the day,” Roadhog responded. “He was gonna throw it out. I fixed it up myself.” 

Brigitte nodded and smiled as she ran her fingers gently over the handlebars. “I love it,” she said. 

As the young engineer floated back over to the main group to help fix some small issue with the buggy, Roadhog watched her go, still not used to being treated as, well, a person, by anyone other than Junkrat. Most of the other Overwatch agents were polite, sure, but he could still see the slight fear in their eyes, the doubt. An outcast among outcasts, it seemed.

By the time the team was fully prepared and ready to move out, their shadows had grown thin and elongated on the dry ground. Roadhog was already seated on the bike as Jamison squeezed himself in to the sidecar, only able to sit with his knees to his chin with all of the extra supplies he had crammed in. He caught Roadhog’s eye through his mask and flashed him his signature cocky grin and a thumbs up. 

“When you are ready, Mr. Rutledge, lead the way.” came Fareeha's voice over the coms. 

Roadhog growled at the sound of that name. “I told you, it's Roadhog.” he said, he and Junkrat disappearing behind the cloud of dust kicked up by the chopper. 

****

“We confirmed with Beamer that we would be meeting near the weather station. They mentioned not to drive our vehicles too close. It seems like the residents of the nearby settlement can get nosey at times.” 

Had they not already been so close to their destination, Roadhog would have just turned off his com at that point. Fareeha went over the plans almost non stop since they left the dropship much to the protest of McCree, who, from what Roadhog could tell, was the only one brave or stupid enough to talk back to her. Rumor around the watchpoint was that her fear of disappointing her mother and other higher-ups in Overwatch was nearly crippling. 

Approaching the weather station, Lúcio spoke up. “I don't see anyone. Weren't they meeting us here?” 

“Ha! You lot got ripped off.” said Junkrat. 

“They didn't take anything from us. Can't rip someone off if ya don't get anything from it.” said McCree. 

“Time is money, McGee!” replied Rat. 

McCree gave a weary sign over the coms, and Roadhog swore he heard Fareeha giggle. 

But, what Lúcio said appeared to be true. They were the only people that could be seen around the station. 

“Suppose they're running a bit late?” asked McCree. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” called a voice from the direction of the station. The team turned to see a woman standing in the doorway. She was well under 5 feet tall, box braids twisted into a neat bun on the top of her head. Getting closer they could see that most of her skin was covered in pocmarks, some as large as an inch across. “My name is Moony,” she said, “and I suppose you lot must be Overwatch.” 

Moony stepped out of the doorway and held out her hand in greeting. She shook each team member’s hand as they introduced themselves, stopping when she reached the two former Junkers. “No need to introduce yourself, fellas,” she said. “I've been around Junkertown once or twice.” 

“Oi!” shouted another voice from inside the weather station. “Is that the Underlook team?” 

“It's Overwatch, hon, and yes.” called back Moony. 

A man in a wheelchair emerged from inside the station, gliding down a ramp to stop sharply at Moony's side. 

“G’day,” he said with a grin. “Shit. You blokes are taller than expected.” he muttered with a nod to Junkrat and Roadhog. 

“This is my husband, E-Train.” said Moony.

(“E.T. for short” the man added quickly.)

“Overwatch, E-Train. E-Train, Overwatch!” Moony introduced. 

“This has all been nice,” said Fareeha, “but we are here for a purpose. I take it Beamer informed you of our arrival?” 

“Yep, just so we didn't come out and start shooting.” said E-Train. 

Fareeha nodded. “Understandable. Have they arrived? We're on a schedule and can't head out without them.” 

Moony and E-Train exchanged some conflicted looks. Roadhog tightened his hand around his hook. Something wasn't right. 

“There was...a sort of accident.” said Moony sheepishly, wringing her hands together. E-Train nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. 

“Care to elaborate?” Fareeha asked sternly. 

“Uh, well, w-what happened was, er…” Moony stammered and fell over her own words. “Hon, you tell them I just can't…” 

“Okay, so,” said E-Train as the team focused their attention on him, “do any of you know that American guy, like way back when, who got a damn iron rod shot through his skull and just walked away from it?” 

“Phineas Gage?” said McCree. 

“Yeah! Yeah, that's the one. So, yeah, what happened to Beamer was exactly like that. 'Cept they died.” 

Fareeha opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. McCree raised an eyebrow under his hat and Junkrat stiffed back a laugh. 

“I know it sounds insane but it's true.” said Moony. “Some gasket or something in a mech. A freak accident.” 

“Sorry for your loss.” said Lúcio. 

E-Train shrugged. “Weren't that close with them.” he said. 

The group stood in silence for a moment, neither party knowing what to say. 

“But...E-Train and I were talking, after it happened,” said Moony, “and we think we can help you.” 

“We have a friend, an actual friend, mind you, not an acquaintance like Beamer, who can be your guide.” said E-Train. “She's a bit of a nomad like they were, but honestly a lot sharper. Beamer could befriend anyone, but they were dumb as a sack of bricks.” 

“We don't know where you're off to, but she can take you just about anywhere.” continued Moony. “She's good at talking to people, even has a lot of people who owe her favors. I would honestly trust her with our lives.” 

Fareeha pursed her lips, thinking hard. “Have you contacted this person yet?” 

“No. We were waiting for you to decide on the next step.” 

“Could you contact her?”

“Of course!”

“Then do it.” said Fareeha. “I need her here as soon as possible, we're already behind.” 

“On it!” announced E-Train, swivelling his chair around and disappearing back into the weather station. 

“Ru-Roadhog, a word.” said Fareeha, and she followed her until they were out of earshot of the others. “Can we trust them?” 

Roadhog thought for a moment. “They don't seem violent. If they don't know the details of the mission then they can't really plan to screw us over. And this new guide isn't here, doesn't seem planned.” 

“So they're most likely just helping?” asked Fareeha. 

“Not everyone in the Outback is a violent criminal. Most are just people trying to survive, to live the best they can after what happened.” 

Fareeha nodded, picking at some dry skin at her lip. “Alright. Okay. My mother...my mother says you are a good man, trustworthy. I believe you. Let's get this over with, yeah?” 

Roadhog grunted in response. 

“She said she'll be here in under an hour!” yelled E-Train out the door. 

“You guys are welcome to wait inside,” said Moony. “We would offer something to drink but…” 

“It's no problem,” said Fareeha. “You have already done so much for us, I am thankful.” 

Moony smiled. “I'm a helper. It's what I do.” And with that lead the team inside to wait for their new guide. 

***

Little over half an hour had passed since they entered the old weather station. Moony gave them a quick tour before leading them to the makeshift living room in the makeshift house and saying to make themselves at home. 

Roadhog, worried about breaking their already worn out looking furniture, settled for sitting against the wall on the floor while Jamison sat crooked in an armchair and tinkered with his arm. Lúcio and Fareeha had gone with E-Train to be shown his weather equipment and McCree took to leaning outside an open window to take a smoke break. 

Hog felt himself about to doze off when the droning silence was cut by the distant sound of an engine. The engine puttered closer and grew louder, cutting off once it reached the station. Jamison joined McCree at the window to try to catch a peak of their temporary teammate. 

“Ya see anything?” asked Hog. 

“Just a shitty lookin bumper,” replied Junkrat. 

Moony stuck her head into the room. “That’s her! No need to get up, I'll bring her right in.” 

Roadhog stood from his place on the floor, cracking his back and neck as the remainder of the strike team joined them in the living room. 

“I think you'll like her, really,” E-Train was saying to Fareeha. “Not to speak ill of the dead or anything but I can't see you getting along well with Beamer. They were really only tolerable in small doses.” 

To Roadhog’s surprise she actually laughed.

There were sounds of opening and closing doors followed by muffled voices moving up the hall towards the living room. Moony was laughing at something the stranger said as she entered the room. 

“Okay guys, meet your new attendent!” 

The woman who entered the room behind Moony was still wrapped in a sort of cloak to protect from the sun, eyes hidden by tinted goggles. She towered above Moony at almost 6 feet with prosthetic running blades that stopped below the knee. She was lanky. Malnourished by the looks of it. 

Removing her hood and goggles in one swift motion, she stood face to face with the team for the first time and smiled, revealing a chipped tooth. Roadhog noticed what looked to be a large burn scar on her face and neck, partially hidden by her cloak and messy dark hair. 

He could feel her eyes on him, almost as if the woman could see through his mask. He tried his best to avoid her intense gaze. There was something off about her, about her face, her hair, her eyes (which shone a strange yellow, a common mutation seen in young children after the fallout, like Jamison she seemed young, far too young to have lived the life she had). 

He had seen her somewhere before. 

“To be honest you guys look a lot different than I expected.” she said. “It's like the Island of Misfit Toys in here. I love it.” 

Much like Moony had the woman worked her way down the line, introducing herself personally to each team member, shaking their hand firmly. Roadhog felt his heart race and hands go clammy as she got closer. He took a deep breath as she stopped in front of him. 

She still wore her kind smile but in her eyes there was something else. Roadhog felt his body go tense and fists clench. 

“No need to introduce yourself, I know who you are.” she said casually. “You and your boss, really made a mark out here.” She gave a nod to Junkrat. 

Hog felt his heart jump into his throat as she extended her hand. 

“It's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Cricket.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited now that Cricket has been introduced fully! I have a lot of plans for her character and can't wait to write more interactions between her and the Overwatch team. Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! See ya next time y'all 
> 
> If you enjoy my writing please consider donating to my ko-fi if you can! It is a big help towards my education and my creative projects. https://ko-fi.com/randdeb


	5. Reststop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of but not really a filler chapter, adding in some world building and some roadtrip montages. Junkrat eats stew from a bag and Roadhog rather be anywhere else but there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to build a time machine and go back in time to beat my past self's dumb ass for saying he would update this fic once a week.

There was nothing special about her that he could see, really. Nothing special for the wastelands at least. Beneath her clothes she seemed nothing but skin and bone, the vertebrae on the back of her neck clearly visible and easy to count. Her skin was ruddy and smudged with dirt. Her hair was unwashed and greasy. He noticed the stray strands that clung to her fingers after she ran them through her hair. Her teeth were slightly crooked, one chipped, fully visible when she smiled. Which she did. A lot. 

Moony and E-Train had been right about one thing though. She was personable and friendly, able to jump from one-on-one conversations to a group talk with ease. His team seemed to take a shine to her right away. The atmosphere in the room was almost that of a small gathering of close friends on a holiday than that of a room full of mercenaries, gang members, arsonists and thieves. 

There was nothing special about her. 

But there was. 

Whenever Roadhog looked at her it was as though his mind was just on the verge of remembering, like a word stuck on the tip of your tongue or straining to make out the words spoken by voices distorted through either distance or time. Every glance she threw at him gave answers he couldn't see. With each flash of her yellow eyes his stomach tightened, hands clenched to keep them from shaking. 

It's just her eyes, the rational part of him whispered. It's the mutation. The yellow eyes the younger ones have, the ones who were only children when your plan reduced their lives to ruin-

He snapped himself out of it before his mind spiraled out of control. His heart was racing and he struggled to keep his breaths deep and steady instead of shallow and shaking. During a late night and early morning in some shitty motel in the middle of nowhere Jamison had gently taken his tearful, red-eyed, pathetic face in his hands, his own eyes watery and said stop.

"You have to just fucking stop," he had said. "Ya can't keep doing this to yourself. You fucked up in the past. So have I. And you can't fucking go back no matter how much you want to. You can't keep going back there, mate, it'll kill you. Please. Please, just stop going back. You're right here, right now. That's what matters. That's all that matters. Just stay here with me-"

Roadhog always tried to stay with him but it was times like this he felt himself drifting. This is just one of those moments, he told himself. It's guilt. I look at her the way I sometimes look at Jamie and feel guilt. 

Too many nights he lay awake restless, his mind obsessing over what-ifs. Those what-ifs would drive him mad in the end, he's sure. What if the Omnium was never built. What if their homes weren't taken away from them. What if Jamison grew up as an actual kid and not an irradiated scavenger who fought every day to survive. What if none of it had never happened, and Cricket and Jamison were in their homes, with their families. No scars, no missing limbs. No children who never really got the chance to be children. 

(Because of him.) 

The strike team now made their way to their vehicles from the weather station, with Moony and E-Train following behind, still taking part in a conversation with the rest of the group. Mako said nothing, trapped in a fog in his own mind, dead to the world. Roadhog ran on autopilot back to the chopper, feeling his partner not far behind. Mako wanted to reach out, taking his hand in his and holding on like his life depended on it. Roadhog didn't. 

"Alright!" 

Cricket clapped her hands together with a grin. "Before heading out, just gonna say a few things. First things first: I do all the talking unless I say otherwise. You gotta know the types of people who live out here and you got to know how to talk with them, and no offense but you're all completely clueless. This applies to Hog and Rat as well, 'cause they're really super good at pissing people off and there are plenty of folks out here who still fancy that bounty on their heads. So keep your mouth shut, Rat."

"Why the hell'd she only call me out specifically?" whispered Junkrat, sounding insulted. 

"Cause you're a bastard." replied Roadhog. He grinned to himself when he saw Jamison shrug in agreement. Cricket continued with her announcement. 

"Two! It's gonna be in your best interest to do as I say. Again, things out here are probably pretty different compared to where you just came from. Sometimes shooting first and asking questions later is absolutely the right idea. But only if I say so. And number three! Number three is...uh..." she thought for a moment, picking at the dry skin on her lips. "Uh...don't stop in bat country. Okay. Good? Good." 

E-Train gave her a thumbs up, mouthing "Great job!" at her as she walked to the couple to say her goodbyes. She flipped him off but pulled him into a hug when she got close enough. Roadhog watched her interaction with the couple closely, looking for anything that might be off, feeding his paranoia. He was waiting for E-Train to whisper something intently into her ear, for Moony to slip a weapon of some kind into her bag or pocket. Instead what he saw was something that one could have probably seen as parents dropped their kids off for school. Moony straightened her clothes and wiped a smudge of dirt off her face and E.T. looked to be speaking to her in a way that was more reminiscent of the last few minutes before leaving for a school dance. 

He wondered if this was the closest the girl had ever gotten to having parents. 

But Roadhog managed to shake the thought from his head as the bike underneath him roared to life along with the dune buggy and Cricket's truck. Junkrat now sat comfortably in the sidecar, all of his excess grenades and miscellaneous supplies now taking up Lucio's place in the buggy, the DJ wanting to ride shotgun with Cricket. Rat stretched his back and reclined with his hands behind his head with a content sigh. 

"God, I missed this place." he said. "No place like home, ey Roadie?"

"Put your damn goggles on or your eyes'll get fucked again." said Roadhog and the chopper and buggie sped off with their new leader, leaving E-Train and Moony behind in the dust, waving goodbye until they disappeared completely from the reflection of the rear-view. 

***

Lucio gazed out the window at the vast and empty landscape as it flew past. The landscape had honestly surprised him; instead of the barren wasteland he had always pictured it was a terrain that was spotted with a decent amount of greenery and even the occasional tree. It could almost be passed off as a scenic Sunday car ride. Not that he had ever really gotten the chance to go on those as a kid, and not like he had time to go on them now. 

"This place is...different," said Lucio to no one in particular, "not really what I imagined." 

Cricket laughed. "I promise you it'll look a lot more Fury Road once we get to where we're going," she said. 

"You make it sound like I'm disappointed," Lucio replied, grinning. 

"Hey, if I thought there would be a Furiosa where I was going and there wasn't I would be pretty disappointed too, honestly." 

Lucio snickered as Cricket giggled at her own reference. He watched her smiling and became even more hesitant to ask for answers. "Cricket," he said sheepishly, "If you don't mind, could I ask you a few questions about life out here? Obviously there isn't a lot of information about this place going around, it would be nice to try to raise some awareness once I get back." 

"Ha! Good luck getting anyone to care. But sure knock yourself out, mate."

"There's still some good people out there," he said gently. "Plenty will."

Cricket laughed and shook her head. "Whatever you gotta tell yourself. What do you want to know, anyways?"

"Oh! Yeah. I guess the most basic would be what it's like being a Junker. I've tried to ask Hog and Rat but Hog ain't much of a talker and Rat is...too much of a talker." 

"Well, first thing's first, I'm not a fucking Junker. Not everyone out here is a Junker." 

Lucio was honestly taken off-guard. Damn, there really is no real info about life out here outside of the Outback, he thought. "Then what is a Junker? Like a title, a job?"

Cricket thought for a moment, lips pursed, eyes on the path ahead. "It's more like....a lifestyle. It's hard to explain. Like, all Junkers are from Junkertown, but not everyone in Junkertown is a Junker, yeah? Junkers are like...I dunno, the people that completely left civilization behind and formed this whole new society. These fuckers saw one Mad Max movie and were like, 'Wow, this seems like a great idea! Let's Thunderdome this bitch!'" 

"Huh," Lucio nodded, "Wow that's...not what I was expecting." 

"I have a feeling you're gonna be saying that a lot." said Cricket. Lucio would have stopped his questioning there but Cricket still seemed to be in a cheery mood and actually not that bothered by the questioning, so he continued. 

"So is there a name for non-Junkers?" he asked. 

"Nah, mate," said Cricket. "We're just people." 

The rest of the conversation was relaxed and casual, almost fun. Lucio learned they had a lot in common, both born into harsh and unfair societies that forced their people to fight the governments tooth and nail for even just the chance to live any semblance of a normal life. He had a good feeling that given the amount of time they could become good friends along with the underlying bad feeling with knowing that he would probably never see her again after this mission. E-Train and Moony had called her a nomad, and she did seem to know a lot of people, but was she friends with any of them? Family? While she seemed close with the couple back at the weather station he had a feeling that she never stayed too long for visits, or didn't even visit that often. 

"Just one more thing," Lucio said. 

"Go for it," replied Cricket. 

"Do...do you have a family, or people you live with or are you...mostly to yourself out here?"

His heart skipped a beat when he saw her smile falter and grip on the steering wheel turn tight. Yeah, he had probably gone too far with this one. 

"N-never mind," he stuttered, "That's too personal, sorry-"

"No! No it's not a crazy question, I get it. It's natural to be curious." She seemed to be trying to hide her initial shock and still fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. "No. Yeah. It's, uh. Pretty much just me." 

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." 

She nodded with a sad smile. "Thanks. Kinda used to it, I guess. My gran was the last of my family and she passed, oh I dunno, five or six years back? Before that was my mum, and before that were my uncles. Kinda used to be upset that my dad wasn't around but then hey, one less person to loose I guess!" 

She still smiled, but in the way one smiled when telling a sad story they had told a million times before. She was used to it. Much too used to it. "Is it weird to feel like a fuck-up for surviving?" she asked. 

"No, I get that," said Lucio. "Lotta my family and friends were lost in the uprisings back in Brazil. You feel guilty cause you made it out alive. You feel stressed cause you feel the need to do something with that. And no matter what you end up doing, no matter the impact you end up making you still haven't brought them back." 

"So even if you...get rid of what got rid of them...you don't feel any better?" 

"I mean...a bit, I guess. But it's never what you expect. Though knowing you made a change in their memory and that other lives will be helped and improved, maybe even saved...it helps you sleep a bit better at night."

Cricket nodded, looking deep in thought. "Huh." 

They sat in silence for a few moments after that, reflecting on what had been said. Lucio himself had been struggling for years with the trauma he carried from his childhood and the uprising and was still struggling to that day, and, damn, he had help. And from the sound of it she had...herself.

He pretended not to see the scars on her arms and legs that looked far from accidental. 

"You're a DJ," she said out of the blue in a matter-of-fact tone. 

"Yeah?"

"You got some music? We got like three radio stations out here and they play nothing but that early 2000s crap, buncha nostalgic fuckers." 

Lucio laughed. "Yeah, I got you." he said, taking out his phone and playing his newest mix as loud as he could make it. Cricket nodded her head along with the song, tapping her thumb on the steering wheel with the beat. The young man smiled to himself, seeing the song take its intended effect. 

"What's this song called, anyways?" asked Cricket. 

Lucio replied as he set the song on repeat. "It's called Bliss." 

***

As the unrelenting heat of the day gave way to the soft coolness of the evening the team found themselves lead by Cricket to a long-abandoned petrol station to take shelter for the night. 

"We can take watch in shifts," Fareeha said. "Starting after dinner we'll pair off while the others get some sleep for the night. Jesse and Roadhog, Lucio and Junkrat, and then Cricket and I." 

"Ooh, wonderful! Is this gonna be one of those girl's nights out I've heard so much about?" asked Cricket with a smirk.

"Not unless Fareeha brought some of that boxed rose along." said McCree. 

"Remind me to stop letting you join us on girl's nights." replied Fareeha. 

McCree gave Fareeha a fake pout as he worked with Lucio to cover broken windows with old rags to keep any light from escaping and giving them away in the middle of the dark nowhere. On the opposite side of the cracked and shattered glass Roadhog supervised as Junkrat buried mines and set traps around the perimeter of their camp. "Pretty sure that's not necessary," muttered Cricket as she watched. 

"It's peace of mind for him more than anything," Fareeha said. "He's one of those people with specific rituals to be done daily, or nothing is right." 

Cricket nodded without taking her eyes off of the two outside. She seemed lost in thought, fidgeting mindlessly with a chain she wore around her neck. Her concentration broke only after McCree nudged past her to pin one of the rags over the window. "Pardon me, missy," he said. 

"No problem," she replied. "just don't call me missy." 

McCree tipped his hat at her, being a true western gentleman. "Apologies." he said. Cricket smiled. 

The front door squealed open as the two ex-Junkers reentered the building, Junkrat wiping dirt and dust off of his hands and onto his already dirty and dusty shorts. "That don't count as washing your hands!" Lucio said, already handing out MREs to the rest of the team. 

"I'm sucking stew outta a fucking bag, I ain't even using my hands!" Rat said back. 

"Wash your hands," grunted Roadhog. Junkrat rolled his eyes and grumbled, rummaging through one of the bags for the hand wipes. 

"Is there meat in it?" asked Cricket as she took a bag. She squinted hard at the package, trying to read the small lettering. "I can never eat too much meat, makes me sick. Mum raised me vegetarian." 

"We just have beef stew, but there are plenty of veggies in it you could eat, just work around the meat." said Lucio. 

Once the food was passed out everyone took their seats. McCree sat on the floor against the wall, spreading his legs wide while Fareeha made use of an old crate as a chair, taking the opportunity to review her maps. Roadhog sat similarly to McCree but with Junkrat taking his seat between his partner's legs, reclining onto his broad chest. Lucio and Cricket sat themselves on opposite sides of Fareeha, watching her work. Junkrat chewed on a tough piece of meat and watched Cricket from across the room. 

"Oi, Buggy," he called out to her. She glanced up from Fareeha's map, seemingly annoyed with her new nickname. "You wouldn't happen to know who one last month's mech championship in Junkertown, do ya?

"Oh. Yeah, I was there, actually. That guy Rampage won." 

"What?" Junkrat shouted, sitting up in shock, some of his stew dripping onto the grimy concrete floor. "Bullshit! Absolute bullshit! Rampage is a fucking hack, Wrecking Ball has beaten his ass countless times! What bullshit." 

Cricket laughed, amused with his reaction to the news. "Wrecking Ball left, mate! He's gone!"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! Got a buddy who works on some of the mechs, she's the one who got me into the championship. Said that right before last month he got up and left, didn't even say anything. The Queen was fucking pissed, people avoided her like the fucking plague after that."

"Who the hell is Wrecking Ball?" asked Fareeha, their conversation evidently interesting enough to earn her attention. "Another Junker?"

"Nah, mate! One of the best mech pilots on the planet!" said Junkrat. "He was amazing, his technique was absolutely insane, he was fucking invincible!" 

"Yeah, pretty hard to get a hold on a giant rolling ball." said Cricket. 

"So a literal wrecking ball," said McCree. "Of course."

"Where the fuck did he even go?" asked Junkrat turning back to Cricket. She shrugged. 

"Dunno. No one does. Honestly kinda glad he's gone, the fights were getting boring. Now you actually won't know who's gonna win!"

"No one's seen him around?" asked Lucio. "He sounds like a major celebrity around here, people would be recognizing him."

"That's the genius, no one's ever seen him! He could be anyone," said Rat. "No one's ever seen him come out of the mech."

Fareeha raised an eyebrow. "Then...how do you know anyone is actually inside? It could be controlled remotely."

"Or an omnic." McCree added. 

"I was thinking that too," Cricket said. "But my friend I mentioned earlier, the one who works on some of the mechs? She said, and she swears on her mum's grave, that she saw the mech open and saw something climbing inside."

"Something?" 

"Yeah. She said he must keep a pet in there with him. Said it looked like a fucking wombat."

Junkrat cackled. "Wrecking Ball keeps a pet wombat with him? Fucking ridiculous, this man's loony!" 

"Would make him easy to find though," Lucio laughed. "Just look for the dude walking around with a wombat on a leash."

"Hoggy, after this Omnium shit how bout we head back home and look for the guy? Lucio said, he should be easy to find!" Junkrat said as he nudged his partner with a wide grin on his face. Roadhog just stared at him through his mask, saying nothing. "And that's a yes from the big guy!" Rat said with a thumbs up. "We can really show these squares how we have fun in the Outback, yeah Buggy?" 

"That is nowhere close to my name but sure why the fuck not." 

"Cheers, I'll drink to that," said McCree, lifting a flask. 

"Jesse!" Fareeha snapped. "No alcohol on missions, you know how Winston gets about these things!"

"Hey, it's not like I'm keeping it all to myself, I brought it to share!" He took a swig and passed the flask on to Lucio, who surprisingly accepted. Lucio took his share and offered it to Fareeha, who rolled her eyes. 

"Fine," she said. "Just this once. But if it happens again I'm tossing the whole flask out of the dropship."

*** 

Roadhog couldn't sleep. 

He lay in the dark of the empty petrol station, seeing only shadows on the other side of his mask. The place next to him was empty, Jamison having gone out with Lucio for their watch shift. leaving him feeling bare and exposed without his partner by his side. Sleeping alone had become rare, and even while being able to hear his voice outside it left an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. After being forced to sleep alone for so long, he never wanted to go back to it ever again. He closed his eyes and focused on sounds. Jamison talking. McCree snoring. The building settling. 

"Mum?" 

The voice took him by surprise, making him flinch in the dark. 

"Mum? Mummy?" 

He sat up, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. It was Cricket, curled up in a corner across from him, mumbling in her sleep. 

"Come back, I can't see you," she said. "Too far away. Come back." 

Mako resisted the urge to go to her, to comfort her back into peaceful sleep, something he had done countless times with Jamison. 

"Mum you gotta come back Gran and I are waiting..."

She began to twist and turn, her knees and elbows knocking up against the wall. Roadhog hoped she wasn't a sleepwalker, looking at her prosthetics that lay next to her with her bag. She was whimpering. Crying. "Mum..." she whispered. 

He was about to go to her, to suck up any worry he held towards her in the beginning and hold her until she stilled, falling back into a deep, dreamless sleep when her body seemed to be jolted up against its will into the sitting position. Her thin chest was heaving and she seemed to be looking around the room frantically for something, or someone, that wasn't there. Roadhog held his breath as her blazing yellow eyes met his. 

"Where's.....where's mum? Where is she?"

Roadhog said nothing. The girl was still asleep, unconscious to the world. She couldn't see him. She shouldn't see him. 

"Mum said she was looking for you," she said. Her unseeing eyes were locked in his. "Why isn't she back?" 

Another horrible silence. The girl remained still save for a slight sway to her posture, like she would literally fall back to sleep at any moment. She looked at him as her words echoed in his head, making his heart race and hair stand on end. 

"Mum said she was looking for you,"

"Your mum will be back soon," he said softly. "She's on her way. She wants you to go back to sleep, she'll be here when you wake up." 

Cricket did nothing but blink slowly. Her mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. Eventually she nodded, lowering herself back down into her sleeping position. "'kay." she mumbled. "Tell her to come say goodnight when she gets here." 

Roadhog watched for any more movement after Cricket had laid back down, his ears straining to hear any more words, eyes unblinking to catch even the slightest twitch of a limb. She remained still, breathing becoming even and steady. He laid back down in his own corner, returning to his position on his back, eyes on an empty ceiling. Outside Jamison talked. A few feet away McCree snored. Around him the building settled. Before him, with the upcoming dawn, rose the Omnium, empty, smoldering, a familiar sight and a grim reminder. 

Roadhog couldn't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update was a hell of a long time coming. No one told me to expect a 20 page thesis being assigned on the first day of class but hey! Shit happens. I'm so so excited to finally get this chapter posted, cause the next few chapters are really gonna be pretty action packed. If you're a returning reader then I just wanna say thanks, cause this was a pretty long hiatus to stick with me through, and to new readers, welcome! You can follow me on twitter at @the5throommate for updates and shitty tweets.  
> Kudos and comments make my day and helpful critique is highly welcomed!


	6. PERSONAL UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know if anyone really follows this fic, but if you do or are just still interested please give this little update a read.

Hey everyone! 

Thank you for reading this far, it honestly means so so much to me. But, I've decided to make a change to it and hit restart on the Crossing Bridges Burnt story. 

CBB has been something that I've been forming in my mind for probably over two years. And the thing about CBB is that the important core of the story happens between the characters and not what is happening in the environment around them. Because of this I've had anywhere from two to four environmental plot paths and recently it's occurred to me that this plot isn't working out. It's slow and not paced in the way I would like, and thinking about it since the last update I've realized another storyline would suit the character's stories more. 

I would really like to hear your feedback/thoughts on this! CBB is a story I really love and really look forward to sharing. 

Thank you again for reading, and see you next time!!!


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